The players' revelry didn't last long, as dawn was nearing back on Earth.
One by one, the players logged off, and the once-bustling camp fell silent.
Nan Cheng chose to log off as well.
Before logging out, however, he moved his body into one of the newly constructed wooden cabins—only to be stunned by the sight before him.
The cabin was packed wall-to-wall with players lying side by side in neat rows. Everyone had their eyes closed, resting “peacefully” on the ground. At a glance, it looked like some kind of massive group crime scene.
“Holy crap, this log-off spot is more crowded than a train station during Spring Festival rush hour...”
Nan Cheng muttered softly under his breath, struggling to find an open spot between the bodies before carefully lying down flat.
As for why the players didn't just log off right where they stood outside...
It was because Iluvia had specially issued a server-wide announcement earlier. The announcement thoughtfully reminded everyone that time in the game world did not stop, nor would a player's body disappear upon logging out. Instead, it would remain right where it was. The game's fully realistic wilderness environment could easily lead to hypothermia or even death.
Although the continent of Aenoria was a magical world, low-level creatures were still quite fragile.
Once that announcement dropped, players abandoned all thoughts of logging off out in the open.
After all, after working so hard to grind out their levels, losing a level upon death would leave them weeping inside their gaming pods.
“Alright, folks! That’s it for today’s stream. Get some rest, everyone, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Nan Cheng gave a cheerful wave. As his voice faded, the live chat, which had been quiet for a while, instantly burst into motion again:
“Bye streamer!”
“Bye streamer!”
“See you tomorrow, Bro Cheng!”
“? Shouldn't it be see you tonight?”
“Look at Sherlock over here, noticing the details.”
“...”
Nan Cheng closed the stream and exited his gaming pod.
He took a deep breath, his mind still buzzing with excitement.
“This game is going to be epoch-making!”
He had a hunch that this game would become a massive hit in the future, and he, Nan Cheng, would be the pioneer leading its rise! His streaming career would reach its absolute peak!
“Let's do this!”
It was do or die! The first person to take the leap always reaped the greatest rewards!
From now on, he would pour his whole heart and soul into the virtual game Glorious Era!
...
“Not bad, not bad. Setting aside Lilith and the others' faith contributions, the players yielded nearly two points of divine power on their very first day. It might seem like a small amount, but every little bit counts.”
Iluvia reclined lazily on her Divine Seat, feeling quite satisfied with today's revenue.
Yet no sooner had the corners of her lips curled up than she thought of something, and her expression slumped again.
“Maintaining the channel between the two worlds still costs way too much. Just today alone cost me about 0.5 points of divine power, not to mention the expense of leveling up players who haven't contributed divine power directly. The players' divine power output is still way too low. Sigh, I'm operating at a loss...”
Currently, Iluvia's sources of divine power primarily came from three avenues:
The first was faith, which was the main source. The second was void absorption, a very slow process that only yielded about 0.1 divine power points per day, though the amount she could absorb daily would gradually increase as her strength grew. The third came from the players themselves. She had modified their bodies to integrate the ability “Sacred Light Siphon” into their human flesh, allowing them to draw out the life force or energy of defeated targets and convert it into divine power.
However, since it was only the first day, the players were still far too weak. Having no other choice, they could only generate divine power by chopping down trees—which accounted for the main chunk of divine power contributed to Iluvia today.
Meanwhile, those who took on other tasks—such as repairing the temple, constructing houses, or hauling stone—and earned experience to level up were players whom Iluvia had to subsidize out of her own pocket.
Therefore, being able to net two whole points of divine power under these circumstances was already a pleasant surprise for her.
“The players are still way too weak right now. The role they can play is really limited.”
Iluvia rested her chin on her right hand, letting out a faint sigh.
“Sigh... You can't catch a wolf without sacrificing the cub, and you can't lure players into working for you without spending divine power. I'll just take the hit for now. In the early stage, I'll split the divine power income thirty-seven—seventy percent for them and thirty percent for me. I need to feed them up to Level 10 quickly so they can go do some real work...”
Iluvia had long anticipated this situation, which was why she had intentionally capped the EXP required for the first ten levels at 100 points per level—all so that players could reach Level 10 as soon as possible.
Thinking up to this point, Iluvia couldn't help but marvel at how generous she was to her players. If this were run by a certain giant game company back on Earth, they would be exploiting the players to the bone.
Though speaking of exploitation...
Hmm... Was she being a little too merciful?
Should she learn a thing or two from a game designer's playbook?
Like making players lose all their levels upon a single death or something...
Players: Yamero!
The wails of players practically rang out in her mind.
Ahem... Never mind, forget it.
Iluvia shook her head, tossing those bad ideas out of her mind.
“Play the long game, play the long game...”
She still possessed the foresight to sacrifice short-term gains in pursuit of long-term profits.
Well... at least she should fatten up the players first.
“In another two days, once most players have reached Level 10, I'll issue a task for them to clear out the kobolds. It'll serve as their very first trial.”
When Iluvia established the safe zone earlier, she had intentionally left the kobolds untouched just so the players could better adapt to combat.
After all, kobolds were not only numerous but also weak—making them the absolute perfect practice targets for the players.
Rate on N.U.
